


Oh pity oh sorrow I must be married on the morrow

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Forced Marriage, Secretly Incestuous Marriage, Unknowingly Marrying a Relative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 01:10:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19121539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: "Bring her into our fold, turn her into her our own symbol of a united galaxy, and Alderaan will have no recourse. The logical conclusion is to bind her to our cause. Lord Vader, you will take her to wife."





	Oh pity oh sorrow I must be married on the morrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiriamKenneath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/gifts).



Leia's ship flew through the darkness of space and was pursued. The comforting blue of their hyperspace flight was gone, robbed not by the Interdictor feared by Captain Antilles, but by a simpler problem with the engines. The shots from the pursuing Star Destroyer meant they'd never make the repairs in time.

It was her ship by right, but the Captain had the privilege of command. "Your Highness, you need to get to an escape pod," he said, his eyes on the final report from the engine room. They slowed, victim to a tractor beam they could not escape.

"They'll chase me. The information has already been taken by a courier." Leia was no longer the messenger. Now she was the distraction. Small pods burst from the skin of their poor, doomed ship. She could only hope the one carrying Captain Andor made it safely away without being targeted by an Imperial blast. They were parsecs away from the nearest star system.

The ship shook as the Star Destroyer forcibly docked. Leia readied her blaster and exited the Bridge.

"Wait," said Antilles. "Stay here. We can protect you from this position."

She shook her head. "They have to believe I'm trying to escape. Get to a pod, or surrender. We can't win this battle now."

Antilles readied his own blaster. The rest of the Bridge crew, frightened faces all, stood with him as he said, "No, but we can make it look as though we want to."

She nodded at them, so proud of their bravery she could cry. Then she ducked through the door and dashed down the corridors away from the invading stormtroopers. When she reached a corner she could hold, she turned and waited. Five 'troopers fell under her blaster before they surrounded her, and she took out another before the beam hit her full in the back.

Leia had wondered what death would feel like, if she'd simply lose consciousness, or if her last moments would stretch into a greying darkness. Her last thought was that dying felt exactly like being stunned.

* * *

She woke in a cell, arms and legs aching, head pounding, wrists in binders. She wasn't sure where she'd been taken. Imperial prisons tended to be drab, filthy, and designed to kill the spirit as they destroyed the body with grueling work. This cell was clean, if she ignored the faint and unpleasant stains on the grill that served as the floor. She'd always had awareness of other people around her, even if she couldn't see them, but the presences around her weren't the broken spirits she'd felt when she'd toured the prison on Artel. She felt the crisp, orderly evil she always associated with willing servants of the Empire, and a dark coldness she remembered sensing briefly before she'd been shot.

Not a prison, then, or not one where she'd be kept for long. This was a holding cell. She would be interrogated and killed.

Leia sat up, flexing the muscles up and down her body as best she could to rid herself of the effects of the blaster stun. Her heart lay heavy inside her, unsure if their effort had been worth the cost. The spying mission had been wildly successful, yielding up a wealth of information on fleet movements, troop locations, even the Empire's full plans for this half of the Outer Rim. If they could get that through to the Alliance, they'd have a huge tactical advantage over the Empire in the coming months. She had no way to know if Andor had survived, or for that matter, if Antilles or any of his crew had survived. The Empire would be glad to let her marinate in her own uncertainties until Leia cracked open and oozed out all her secrets.

She waited four hours until the ISB agent came to her cell. By that time, she'd gone through worry, rage, and despair, and come out the other side determined not to tell him a single piece of information.

As if he knew this already, he looked her up and down with a sigh. "Give me your hands."

Leia drew back instinctively. He sighed again and stepped closer, roughly grabbing her before he shoved the key into the lock of her binders. They fell away. Leia resisted rubbing her wrists. "Let me guess. You're the nice one, here to offer me a drink and a kind ear before your partner brings the pain droid."

He grabbed her shoulder and led her out of the cell. "That seems a waste of effort. I'd prefer the pain droid alone." Stormtroopers stood outside. With no options, Leia allowed herself to be led through the corridors of what was probably a ship until she reached the Command Deck. The cold inside her grew until finally she saw the cause, dressed all in black from his boots to his helmet. The Emperor's Hand. Vader.

The floor here was slick and clean, a tidy deck not used for torture. She'd die by a neat blaster bolt, or choked to death without a finger on her.

Leia let herself look around while keeping her gaze calm. Armed guards, but too far out of reach. Vader had his laser sword at his belt. Leia had read about those in stories and didn't know how to use one the way she did a sword made of steel. She was surrounded by the means of cutting down the Emperor's most loyal servant without a good chance to take advantage. Not yet.

Vader glared at her through his dull red lenses. "Tell us what you did with the plans you intercepted, and your death will be painless."

Leia was heir to the royal house of Alderaan. She would not be afraid. "What plans?"

"Your ship was spotted in range of a coded transmission detailing the Empire's plans for the Outer Rim. Your computer was wiped of all data. You received the transmission, and you have passed it on to your Rebel friends." He pointed his finger at her. Leia felt the pressure in his movements, and inside her mind.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I am conducting a mercy mission for the Senate. There's a famine on Dallos. Alderaan is providing food and aid."

Vader turned from her. "Dallos has been in open rebellion against the Emperor. They will receive no further aid until they yield, or they will serve as an example to other worlds when they starve."

She kept her hands from forming fists. It would do no good. Dallos had come into the Alliance only a few months ago, but the Dallosians were known for their hot-headed personalities. They couldn't merely provide support for the Rebellion, not without making loud noises about how they hated the Empire. She'd been sent by Mon Mothma to beg Dallos to learn subtlety. Fight, but fight intelligently. Alderaan had survived this long by never showing their hand.

Vader turned back to her. There were many rumors about him: he could kill a man by looking at him, he could read the guilt in a traitor's mind, he'd murdered hundreds of Jedi. Leia stood before him refusing to be cowed.

The ISB agent pushed her towards the alcove where the communications array was located. He shoved her to her knees as the hologram lit. The Emperor's cowled face stared at her. Beside her, Vader went to one knee and bowed. The 'troopers and the agent bowed. Leia felt the malevolent being glare at her as she refused to duck her head, even across the distance of lightyears. There was little chance left that she would be permitted to die clean. All she had left was her conviction to die proud.

"Hello, my friend," the Emperor said. She'd heard his voice in recordings before, but she'd never been in his presence, even by holo. He'd withdrawn from the Senate and from the galaxy, choosing instead to use the agents of his will to command on his behalf.

"We have captured the spy, my Master."

"I see. Have you found proof of her treason?"

"The databanks were wiped. I can extract the confession from her."

"There is no need. Alderaan has ever been a nuisance, but a powerful one with many friends in the Senate. Without the direct evidence of their involvement with the Rebellion, interrogating or executing the Princess will only bring disorder. Her will is very strong. You will not find the answers we need. I have foreseen it."

"What is your bidding, my Master?"

Leia hadn't let herself be afraid. Now, she heard a light chuckle from the hologram before her, an old man amused by his own thought, and for the first time, her pulse quickened in nameless horror.

"We must keep Alderaan in check. They in turn will keep their allies from doing anything rash. Kill the heir to the throne, and they will transform her into a martyr. Bring her into our fold, turn her into her our own symbol of a united galaxy, and they will have no recourse."

She could see nothing under Vader's mask, and thus had no reason to feel strongly that his unease grew at every word. His head did not turn towards her. Nevertheless, she knew he was worried.

The Emperor said, "The logical conclusion is to bind her to our cause. Lord Vader, you will take her to wife."

Vader did not speak. Leia's sight darkened before her, her mouth filling with bile. "I will not," she said, and the hand of the ISB agent clamped against her shoulder hard enough to bruise flesh. She didn't care. Let them execute her. "I will not!" she shouted, struggling against his grip to try and regain her feet. "This is an outrage."

"No, my dear," said the Emperor, turning his wrinkled face to her for the first time. "This is politics. Your family surely has taught you the necessity of choosing a politically strategic mate. I have made the choice for you."

"I will not marry any of your lapdogs. If you want to execute me, do it."

The chuckle again, and the skin-crawling sensation he could see through her even here. "It will not be your execution. Your father is here on Coruscant as we speak. You will concur to this union, or I will order my guards to tear his body limb from limb in full view of the Senate as the traitor he and all the people of Alderaan are." The hologram leaned closer. "Then we will come for your mother. Alternatively, should you agree, they will be allowed to live in the same freedom they have always enjoyed under our gracious rule. Alderaan sits in a precarious position, balancing on your next words. Choose them carefully."

In her mind's eye, Leia saw too well his orders being carried out. The Rebellion had lost good people, not just at the end of blasters and torpedoes, but also terminated in grisly public displays. Had Palpatine threatened her with her own death, she'd grit her teeth and accept her fate. Intellectually she knew her parents' beliefs would allow them no less of a firm stand. But she'd been orphaned once already.

"Having considered your offer," Leia said, her mouth numb, "I accept your terms."

The Emperor dismissed her without another glance, returning his focus to his black-clad lackey. "Old friend, you have said nothing."

"Master, I believe there are more suitable candidates for your plan. Governor Tarkin is unmarried."

"Governor Tarkin is not here, and you will not try my patience by suggesting anyone else. You are unmarried, my apprentice, and I bid you take this woman as your wife. Do you have any other objections, old friend?"

"No, my Master. I will do your bidding."

"Excellent. We may dispense with more formality. A well-publicized event would only invite your new bride's more disruptive associates to attempt to intervene. I am the law in the galaxy, and I declare you legally wed as of this moment. The Imperial Holonet will announce the marriage immediately. Alderaan will be informed of the happy news."

The hologram faded from view.

In a different galaxy, the one she and her allies hoped to see one day, this farce wouldn't be permitted. A marriage would only be entered into by two or more like-minded beings, choosing to forge their futures together, not thrust into by the whim of some capricious monster. Her heart hammered inside her, beating hard enough to fly out of her chest, hard enough to kill her if her destiny was kind.

Vader remained kneeling in front of the empty display for another long moment. He stood. Without looking at Leia, he told the agent, "Bring her. Have guards assigned to my quarters to prevent any attempt at escape."

Leia struggled as she was dragged, first by the ISB agent alone, then by the rough hands of the stormtroopers, through the corridors of the ship. She wouldn't scream. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't beg. She also would not make this easy for them as they followed Vader's steady footsteps.

She was brought to the Officers' wing of the Star Destroyer's living quarters. The door hushed open, and she was brought inside behind him.

"The second room. Empty it of everything. Leave nothing that can be used as a weapon or a noose." She was held as the order was carried out swiftly. Imperial quarters held little, and the antechamber to this suite was nearly bare even before the 'troopers removed the lamp from the desk and the sheets from the bed.

Leia shrugged off the hold as they finished, walking with all the courage she could muster into the room on her own power. The bed was a standard bunk. A window looking out into the sparkling depths of space in which her own face reflected. There was a desk, a chair attached to the floor, and a set of drawers, now emptied. The cubicle refresher to one side held nothing she could use to attack her groom, nor anything she could use to end her own life.

"You will stay here," Vader said, his first words to her as her husband. The door locked as it closed. She had no doubt that stormtroopers would be posted outside the entrance.

She took one stomach-churning look at the empty bunk, then sat heavily on the chair. Within a few minutes, the starfield vanished into the blue of hyperspace. She didn't know if her ship had been destroyed, if the men and women who'd served aboard it were dead, if the information she'd given up her freedom in exchange for had made it back to Yavin. She didn't know where she was being taken, or when Vader would return.

She wouldn't cry. Not where anyone could see.

* * *

Leia woke with a start, her arms cradling her head at an uncomfortable angle on the desk. The stars outside had returned. The end of the hyperspace jump had startled her from sleep. The desk had a chronometer on its surface. She'd been in here for about four hours, and asleep for less than one of those, long enough to begin an unhappy, claustrophobic dream, not long enough to see it through to the end.

The ship orbited slowly. Another hour brought a planet into view, tormented with fire. The desk's computer had been disabled, and Leia could not remember any inhabited worlds with this level of volcanic activity visible from space. Her ship had been overtaken not far from Ryloth but she'd been unconscious twice since. They could be anywhere.

At last, the door to her small prison of a room opened. Terror shot through her, expecting the dark beast she'd unwillingly married. Instead, two stormtroopers came in, and she saw others standing at attention outside.

"This way," barked the one with the commander's pauldron. His weapon was close enough for her to grab, but his partner's weapon was aimed at her, and she had nowhere to run.

Leia kept her eyes open as they led her through the ship. A shuttle had been prepared for her. She considered the odds of obtaining a weapon and overcoming her captors. They weren't good, but the odds were better than being carted down to the volcanic world as some sort of sacrifice. She tensed herself.

The commander said, "The Star Destroyer has orders to fire upon the shuttle if we deviate from the flight plan in any way. I don't intend to die today, and I will stun you myself to keep you quiet." No deference in his voice, and no quarter. He sounded a little brighter than the average 'trooper she'd encountered, which explained the pauldron.

"You know how handsomely my planet would pay for my safe return."

"Unless they can also stop Lord Vader from strangling someone from halfway across the galaxy, then hold off the entire Imperial fleet, they won't pay enough." Very bright. As Leia sat down where she was told, she wondered if she might be better off recruiting this one to the Rebellion.

"What is this planet?" she demanded. If she couldn't change her captors' minds, she could keep some level of control.

The commander didn't answer her. One of the other stormtroopers muttered, "Mustafar," and was jostled into silence. Leia thought back to stories she knew and nodded to herself. The rumors said Vader kept his primary base here rather than on Coruscant. Better fortified, Alliance Intelligence believed, but her father kept his own counsel, his face carefully blank when the topic came up, and he wouldn't even tell Leia what he thought.

She'd never see him again.

The surety and sorrow punched her in the gut. She was to be Vader's personal prisoner here on this fiery planet, hostage to her mother and father's good behavior and them as hostages to her own. She'd never be permitted to see either of them.

The shuttle brought her to the planet's surface, docking beside an imposing black fortress, obsidian-forged and double-towered. Heat baked into her as she walked towards her new home. If she ran, she could cast herself off the side of the narrow bridge to immolate herself in a drawn-out scream of agony. She told herself the threat of pain didn't frighten her. The punishment the Emperor would mete out to her home did.

She was brought to the entrance hall of the vast castle, where she was met by a pinched-faced older human in a heavy black robe. He stared at her for a moment in disbelief. "This is the girl?"

The commander said, "Lord Vader ordered her to be brought here."

The man ignored him, taking in Leia's appearance. Her hair was mussed from her poor sleep and her poorer treatment. Her gown remained unstained, and only now did she note the mockery of wedding garb on her own frame. "The droids have prepared the room. Bring her this way."

He led them off, and Leia followed, noting the cooler temperature as they went deeper inside the castle. It stood astride an active lava flow but some hidden heart pumped more comfortable although stale air into the living chambers. She didn't know if she would be led to a dank, clammy cell in the bowels of the fortress, and she hoped for that over the other alternative. But no. She was led under guard to what appeared to be a large bedchamber. Her heart sank even lower.

"Lord Vader is occupied and will call for you later," said the servant, as she was led inside. "I am Vaneé. When you need something, you may summon me." He showed her the small pad by the door inside the room. Without another word, the door was shut between them and locked, with Leia inside and the guards outside.

Leia's new cell resembled her cell aboard the ship in many ways, but differed in size. A large bed took up one wall, stripped of everything to the mattress, though she'd been left two small pillows. There was no desk, but a shelf held several datapads on different topics. A glance showed most were dry technical manuals for ships. She'd been left with some history reels as well, all with recent enough dating to assure her they were the most current Imperial propaganda. A few chairs, upholstered in the same dark cloth as the firmly-affixed hangings on the walls, looked out through a wall-sized window upon the turgid glow of the volcano's dark heart. An unwholesome red cast covered the room, escapable only in the refresher.

Every detail told her this was some guest suite, given over to the infrequent visitors brave enough to step into the monster's lair. The Emperor himself might have slept in that bed, and performed his ablutions in that shower. The thought made her skin crawl.

She returned her attention to the datapads. None had an outside connection to any signal, not even when Leia cracked open the casing to inspect the inner components. She had no means of getting a message to her family or friends. Unless she was permitted to view the Imperial Holonet, she also had no means of discovering any news of them save what she was told by her captors.

With nothing else to do, she unpinned her hair, using the small comb she found in the refresher to tease out the tangles of her journey. The repetition of movement stilled the nerves eating away at her. She would prefer puzzles to occupy her thoughts, some knotty trade dispute for the Senate to work on rather than gnarls of her own hair, anything to put her mind off the dread that grew as time passed. This might be Vader's guest chamber but she was now Vader's bride. No matter how she tried to push away the terror, the certainty popped up again that he would send for her to be brought to his own rooms. This was their wedding night. Leia was not nearly strong enough to fight a Sith Lord. Her last hope was to anger him into killing her swiftly.

Tears threatened again. She swallowed them, bid them away.

When the door opened at last, she jumped nervously in the chair. Vaneé stood outside. "Come with me," he said. "The Master is waiting."

She stayed in her chair. "And if I don't go?"

Vaneé's face grew pale. "We don't defy the Master."

Leia turned towards the horrible sight outside. "You might not. I will not be summoned like some pet. You are dismissed."

"Lady Vader...."

Another shudder threatened. "That's not my name."

"It is your title, Mistress."

"And that's definitely not my title, either. You may address me as 'Your Highness,' Vaneé."

He gave a small cough. "I may. I may also remind you that of the organic beings who live in this castle, I am not the one who will throttle you for being insolent but I am the one tasked with keeping you comfortable, and how well I choose to perform that duty begins with how well I am treated, my lady."

Leia looked away from the lava and at the old man. There was pride in his words, and some anger. He'd been given the role of nursemaid to his employer's unexpected wife, and had spent his previous days living in terror of Vader's whim. Whether he was a willing servant of the Empire or a slave conscripted into this role was immaterial now, she realized. He was a person, and she'd spoken unkindly to him for no other reason than her own fears.

They watched each other for a long moment. Leia said, "I apologize for the tone, Vaneé. I don't wish to be your enemy. Are you Vader's prisoner as well?"

He gave a shrug, and the shrug said more than his rote words: "I serve at the pleasure of the Empire." A prisoner, but either a willing one, or one so long used to service it no longer mattered to him how it began.

"I don't intend to come at Vader's beck and call. If I am his wife, I expect to be treated as his equal."

Vaneé chuckled, though it was not with so foul an air as the Emperor had. "That's a matter you need to take up with him, not me." When Leia did not get up from her chair, he bowed once to her, and closed the door, again locking it.

Leia returned her attention ot her hair, recoiling the braids as her mother had taught her.

After a time, the door opened again. She stood, expecting Vader this time. Instead, a short serving droid wheeled itself inside carrying a tray. It whistled at her, waiting for Leia to take the tray from its outstretched appendages.

"Thank you."

She watched the droid leave, then examined the food, a thin soup with the sheen of oil already congealing on the surface. Leia set the tray aside. The datapads looked deadly dull. Nevertheless she selected one, curled up on a red-upholstered chair, and began to read. Some time later, the droid returned long enough to fetch the tray and the untouched soup.

The door opened again. Leia didn't need to look up. The harsh breathing echoed in the room. "You will eat," said Vader.

"I'm not hungry."

"Then you will be fed intravenously."

She felt the datapad yanked from her hands and shoved back onto the shelf. Her body lifted from the chair, dragged with invisible strings towards the door as Vader turned and walked away, bidding her to follow.

"I can walk," she snapped at him, choosing anger rather than fear.

She was dragged another half meter. Then she felt her feet touch the floor. Getting her legs underneath her, Leia shadowed his steps, taking careful note of her surroundings, the corridors she was led through, different from those she'd been brought in by. She would pay attention. Escape was unlikely, but not impossible. She had to believe.

As if he read her thoughts, and perhaps he did, he said, "You will not escape. There is only one shuttle permitted to land here, and I am the only one with the access code which will allow it to depart."

That was untrue. She'd come in with a different shuttle than the one he'd taken, unless he had changed the codes today. She wouldn't put it past him. "Wouldn't it be easier to shove me into the volcano and be done?"

"That would be my preference." He led her into a long, narrow room dominated by a table made of the same obsidian as the fortress walls. "The Emperor wishes for you to live, for now. I am willing to risk his wrath if you try my patience further." She was shown a chair, high backed and thinly cushioned. Leia sat primly.

The serving droid wheeled into the room, placing what was likely the same bowl of soup in front of her. The passage of time had not made it look more appetizing.

"You will eat."

Vader did not sit, nor was an additional bowl brought out for him. It occurred to her that she had no idea how he ate, if he could remove the mask easily, if he was human underneath or some dark creature from a species she did not know. For all she knew, he fed on the blood of his prisoners. "Why aren't you eating?"

"I take my sustenance directly into my veins, as you will if you do not comply."

Leia took the spoon into her hand and reluctantly tasted a mouthful of her dinner. As she'd thought, the thin gruel tasted bad, but she'd eaten worse on finer plates with a smile at diplomatic functions, and this didn't smell spoiled. She ate as he watched her through his unreadable lenses. Darth Vader did not eat. She remembered the rumor that he'd been human once, and the black suit he wore was not a disguise but the means of keeping him alive.

She finished as much of her dinner as she could stomach and set the spoon aside.

"I want to speak with my parents."

"You would send them coded messages regarding your treasonous activities with the Rebels."

"I want to tell them about the marriage before they hear it on the news."

"They have already been informed. The Holonet announcement was made before our arrival here."

"They won't believe I married you willingly."

"Their beliefs do not matter, only their obedience."

As she spoke, she watched him. Every time she said "marriage" or "married," Vader gave the smallest twitch, almost imperceptible save for the rustle of the hem of his dark cloak. She tested her theory.

"They won't be obedient if I got married without their blessing."

Vader turned from her. "You are finished with your meal. You will return to your chamber. If you behave rather than act like a spoiled child, you will be permitted to leave your chamber each day to take your meals. If you do not cooperate, you will regret your intransigence."

Now that she'd seen, she couldn't help pushing. She stood. "Are you threatening to kill me, even though the Emperor made you marry me?"

"Out."

She felt the same invisible presence push her from the dining room. "I can walk." She sensed his malevolent push even as she retraced her steps. She was alone. She could try to run. He would know. But he was not following her back to the room. Her chamber. Not "our chamber."

The door shut behind her. It took several minutes before she heard the lock.

She went over what she had learned. If she was good, she would be allowed to walk free through the corridors of this wretched place. Vader didn't eat, which gave strong credence to the theory that his suit was life support rather than high fashion. He didn't sleep in this chamber. It was possible he didn't sleep at all. Leia had refused to put words around her fear that he intended to rape her to consummate this sham of a marriage until now, when she was very nearly sure he had no such intention or interest in her.

Vader hated the word 'marriage.' She'd sensed his discomfort when the Emperor made his decree, and she'd observed his irritation since. That was a piece of information she felt she could use, if she could learn more.

Leia hoarded these crumbs of detail, not sure what she could build with them. She inspected the refresher again, and decided she was due a bath. After that, she could take her crumbs and see if they formed any kind of a plan.

* * *

Her days fell into a pattern. She woke, ate the breakfast Vaneé brought her, exercised as she could in her small room, then bathed. The conditioned air of this castle kept her skin midway between sweat and chill. The minutes immediately following her baths were the only occasions when she felt clean. She needed a second bath after the meals she took with Vader, as he watched her take each bite, silent in his own ruminations. Leia had no doubt Vader would make good on his threat to force-feed her, whether that be via a tube down her throat or a line into her arm, and both would restrict her movements. She ate what she was given, and she thought about escape.

The food itself improved after that first day. The gruel had been a test, or a punishment. Her meals remained simple, but when there was bread, it was freshly-baked, and she was given vegetables imported from some brighter part of the galaxy. She asked Vaneé if this was the same rations he lived on, but he rarely spoke to her, dashing her hopes of striking up some kind of alliance with him.

"The Master is away on business," he told her, bringing her dinner to her room.

She didn't want to consider what business Vader attended to today, be that the slaughter of innocents on some planet not meek enough to the Empire's rule, or else the hounding of her friends in the Rebellion, chasing them from base to base, cutting their fleet like rashers of tailring bacon.

"When will he be returning?"

"When he is finished."

"Vaneé, when can I take a walk? The only time I can stretch my legs is when I join him in the dining room."

"I have not been told to permit you to leave your room, Lady Vader. Therefore if you make the attempt, I will summon the garrison of stormtroopers stationed here, and have you shot." He closed the door, and locked it.

Anger burned her stomach. She'd seen no other souls in her few forays out of her room. She'd let herself imagine the castle held only Vader and Vaneé and herself. An entire garrison? Here? It would be a waste of Imperial resources. But he hadn't been completely untruthful. There would be stormtroopers. Even if she overpowered the old man, and even if she found her way to the landing bay, she'd have a much harder time escaping.

She let the food grow cold. Vader wasn't here. She should make what plans she could for a time when he wasn't present. She didn't know much about the Force, and as such, she worried about its extent. Would he feel her sneaking through the hallways? Would he know if she were gone? Would he stalk her footsteps in silence, only to come up in front of her as her freedom was in sight? No, he would have to be offworld on a mission when she ran.

* * *

Vader returned after several days. Leia discovered this when she was escorted to dinner, and found him already seated, waiting to watch her eat.

"I would like to take a walk after dinner," she said.

"You may walk back to your room."

"If I'm to live in this castle with you, shouldn't I see it?"

"No. You will observe escape routes and attempt a plan to flee. You are not a resident. You are not a guest. You will remain here under guard until the Emperor decides you are no longer necessary, and then I will kill you."

It was the longest series of words he'd said to her since the first day. Leia sat in her chair, anger competing with the terror that wanted to consume her. She sensed nothing but loathing from him.

She rallied her pride. "If you want me dead, go ahead and kill me now. You'll save us both a lot of trouble."

He raised his hand. To her surprise and horror, she felt the grip of fingers on her throat, pressing in, squeezing. She couldn't breathe. Vader watched her struggle. Leia's vision grew gray, with bright sparks around the edges of her sight. She would die here on Mustafar, away from her family, away from her hopes, murdered by her husband.

He let go. Leia collapsed into her seat.

"Eat."

"If I don't, will you finish the job?"

Again she felt the pressure, but this was lighter, only the threat of harm.

"You have already been informed of your other feeding options."

He wasn't going to kill her, not yet. His master held him at heel like a beaten dog who would only bite at order.

She sat. She ate.

* * *

Vader was offworld once more, and Leia was no closer to finding her way out of here. She was permitted datapads, as many as she could read if she was happy reading Imperial propaganda and rewritten histories. She asked Vaneé for more, desperate to relieve her boredom. Even a terrible book was better than no book. She could keep her debating skills sharpened on the whetstone of their dull treatises.

Out of habit, she opened the back of each one, looking for anything she could use as a transmitter. Other than the simple signal they sent to one another, a few centimeters at most, there was no way to send something as far as the ceiling, much less to leave the planet's defiant electrical field that surged with its molten core. It must play hell with Vader's electronic parts, and she wondered what harsh penance he must be serving to the Emperor to be banished here when he was of no use to his foul master.

A few centimeters couldn't contact her family. It might have another use.

Leia had always been quick with electronic and mechanical things, but her parents had discouraged that interest, teaching her that working with words to change someone's mind was a far more powerful skill for her to develop. She did develop it, too, standing beside her father and convincing his friends and allies to see Alderaan's point of view on matter after matter.

With no one to convince except an old man who was long beaten, and a beast in dark armor who would never listen, her primary skill could only be used to conduct imaginary arguments against the writers of the books. Her secondary skills looked at the intricate array inside the shell and wondered if the signal could be doubled. She'd never get it further than that, but a few experiments soon managed to allow her to send a small pulse of information halfway across her room.

There were no holocams in her room. She'd expected she would be watched at all times, her movements tracked even as she bathed and slept, but this room held nothing. She was positive.

The datapad she chose was titled, "Freedom By Rule," and had provided her with several infuriating hours arguing with the central conceit that only by complete tyranny could people truly be free. Free of doubt, free of concern over political turmoil, free of fear of conquest. Turn your heart and soul over to a ruler, and you could enjoy the fruits of utter ignorance.

The back cover came off easily. Leia set to work on the electronics.

The door to her room would be locked with a combination, which she had never seen. Standard locks went from five digits to ten. All she had to do was try them all, writing a program to go through the pulses sequentially as she held it close enough to go through the wall.

When Vader returned, and demanded she join him for dinner, Leia placed the datapad on her shelf with the others, and she set her jaw, and she went to her supper. When she was escorted back, she let her eyes wander to the keypad of her lock, and without looking, counted seven digits.

* * *

She wished she had scratched the days into the wall, or given herself some other means of charting time. Days flowed into each other like lava, and she could not be certain, but she thought she'd been there almost three months when the door gave a soft click after one combination.

Leia read the number, memorized it, then relocked the door. She placed her datapad back on the shelf, heart hammering. When she was summoned to supper, she was nearly too nervous to eat, but the consequences weren't worth the nausea she'd experience trying to shove food in atop her anticipation. She wondered how much of her plan was visible on her face. She wondered if Vader could read her excitement.

His red lenses and ebony helmet gave away nothing.

She willed her food to stay down, willed herself to remain calm, willed her eyes to stare at his rather than look downcast and away, until the ritual was over and she was taken back to her room.

Days crawled by, and she pretended to read while she screamed inside her head for him to leave. At last, Vaneé brought her supper alone. "The Master is away."

"Thank you, Vaneé," Leia said, and she counted the long minutes until her meal was finished and her tray taken away. She counted more minutes, steadily, eagerly, as she might idly watch a chronometer tick away as she anticipated meeting her lover. She'd had no lover, too caught up in her duties to spend time on more frivolous matters. In another lifetime, she might never have married, or perhaps would have taken some well-born son or daughter of a good family in a planned union to strengthen ties. She wouldn't be bound by law to the Emperor's fierce enforcer.

Waiting, her nerves threatened to get the better of her, but she needed patience. Thoughts of her other life whispered at her, tempting her with a future she might yet seize.

She wasn't being observed, and it would pass the time. Blushing in the red hell-light of her window, she tugged her trousers down to her ankles, keeping the hem of her robe demurely over her knees. She favored her right hand, but it was always her left that found its way down her stomach and under the soft rush of fabric that hid what she was doing.

Never having dated, she had no face to put into place in her mind's eye, no particular lips to pretend to kiss as her right hand passed over her mouth. Perhaps he would be handsome, with blue eyes faded by sunlight, perhaps her fingers would grasp sandy hair as, ah! The first stroke of her thumb startled her, and she teased herself between thumb and forefinger, rubbing at the hard, wet pearl of her own aching skin. She would have a lover, and her lover's mouth would find her here, tasting her sweetly with an expert swipe and a knowing rub.

Her right hand gave a quick stroke to her breasts, which ached for touch. Her left hand sped up its work between her legs, driving her forward towards welcome release. He'd enter her, as her own slim fingers pushed into herself, while her thumb kept up its circling pressure. Her right hand moved up, touching her throat.

The memory of Vader's chokehold on her slammed into her, and Leia came suddenly, crying out at an unwilling vision of his dark helmeted visage, and his invisible, strangling clutch. Her fingers buried inside her own cunt were turned by her own treacherous imagination into a cock, and she was impaled upon him, coming from the intense stimulation of his touch and the suffocation.

She removed her hands from herself, trembling and filthy from the fantasy, but her orgasms always lingered, and she felt her body spasm again, unaware of her mind's revulsion, enjoying the hot pleasure she'd felt.

Leia couldn't pull her trousers back up fast enough. She ran to the 'fresher and scrubbed her hands, rinsing away the rich scent of herself, and the shame of how she'd gotten there.

It had to be late enough. She was going mad in this prison.

Still shaking, Leia went to the door with her datapad, and keyed in the combination to the lock. For a moment, she thought it wouldn't work. They would rekey it every day with a new code. She'd never escape.

The lock clicked softly.

She opened the door.

Leia had expected a guard, but then, she'd been here for months, and the lock held. Perhaps Vader didn't see the need. She looked to either side, but he had unhelpfully not decorated his castle with convenient weaponry she could use. She'd long paid attention to the path here, but only to the dining room. Now she chose a direction and began to walk, aware every moment that she might be discovered, might be caught or killed.

She thought of the red room, and the horror of the fantasy. She kept walking.

She found the landing bay after several tries, and getting turned around twice. She hadn't seen another soul during her wandering, and she began to wonder if her first impression had been correct, and it was only the three of them in his hulking castle.

The landing bay was empty. No ship she could steal, no means of contacting the outer galaxy even from here.

"There is no escape."

Vaneé stood directly behind her. He hadn't summoned a garrison of stormtroopers, or anyone at all. He did hold a blaster aimed at her.

Leia said, "There's one. Shoot me. Tell Vader the truth, that I was trying to escape."

Vaneé tilted his head. "Amusing. You think that will prevent the Emperor's wrath, or the Master's wrath upon me? You don't get to leave so easily."

She felt the burn of the stun blast before she collapsed to the deck.

* * *

Leia woke in her room. Her datapads were gone.

She sat, watching the lava outside her window, and she wept.


End file.
